You
by Hoechy
Summary: Sterek-y post-S4 goodness, I hope. Sarcastic Stiles's first change as werewolf. One-shot.


Peter. Peter bit him. The narcissistic, self-involved, uncaring man who had managed to become an Alpha once more, no doubt having killed some young, innocent Alpha who, despite their eye colour, was no match for the born-wolf. He probably enjoyed it too. Having that power in his hands; someone's life. Derek and Scott and the rest of the pack were oblivious to Peter's expedition and re-found abilities, so when he showed up at a school lacrosse game where Scott picked up his scent to which Peter responded with a smirk and a flicker of his eyes, Scott, and Derek who he later told, were naturally worried.

Scott and Derek were going to try and perform an intervention of sorts, and it worked up to the point where Derek invited Peter to the loft by saying they needed to talk. It was going fine – or as well as things can go when Peter are involved – until Stiles, who Scott hadn't told, appeared from behind the large, rusty, iron barn door of the loft in his usual uncoordinated manner. Peter was smiling. He had texted Stiles (only god knows why he has the boy's number) and said he needed him at the loft. Before Scott, Derek, or Stiles had a chance to speak, Peter was sprinting towards the boy who, when he reached, threatened with extended claws and fangs and an arm around Stiles's neck.

"Peter!" Derek yells, his voice hoarse with an obvious tone of annoyance, "what are you doing?!"

"I offered him the bite once, but he didn't take it. I think," Peter started out, looking around in the air as if following the path of a firefly, "I think it's too dangerous for little Stiles around here now without any werewolf-y abilities. I just want to protect him!" Peter says as his fangs sink into Stiles's pale neck.

Derek and Scott both move forward but nothing can be done. Stiles shrieks, the pain from the bite being the initial problem, until he realises that he saw Peter's red eyes, meaning he now is either going to die, or become a werewolf. Scott falls behind Stiles and begins putting pressure on his friend's neck as Derek runs after Peter who fled the loft as soon as his fangs had retracted.

"He bit me!" Stiles announces, annoyed, "he bit me, Scott!"

"Which means one of two things," Scott says in his usual worried voice.

Stiles realises the gravity of the situation and his eyes seem to lose their brightness as his expression turns from one of disgust to worry. "I die...or I become a werewolf."

"You're going to become a werewolf, Stiles. You're strong. It's a battle of the mind, remember? Derek and Peter bot–..."

"Don't mention Peter to me."

"Well, Derek said it's how strong you are mentally. And you overcame a nogitsune," Scott says with that that sweet, reassuring smile that could make anybody forget their problems momentarily, on his face. "You're going to be okay, Stiles."

Derek comes running back into the loft and simply shakes his head. Peter was gone, and he probably wasn't coming back. If he did, he'd be pretty stupid. Soon everyone would find out about Stiles; his dad, the other members of the pack, Scott's mum, Kira's parents, Deaton, and all of those people together – a sheriff, a nurse, a 900-year-old kitsune, a history teacher, and a veterinarian, as well as a couple of overly-protective teenagers, surely all of them together would find a way to take down a cocky alpha.

Derek moves over to the window of his loft. The giant, dusty, dirty, stained window. He looks out from it, up at the blank sky. Blank except for everything except for the moon; the moon that is almost wholly spherical. "It's a full moon tonight," he announces.

"What?" Scott and Stiles respond in unison.

Derek turns back to them, unenthused. "Stiles, come here."

Stiles looks at him unconvinced, not sure what he wants to do. Scott is equally as confused.

"Stiles! Get over here."

Slowly Stiles gets up and moves over to the pillar near where Derek is standing. On the other side of the pillar he can now see a pair of shackles as well as few rusty, heavy looking chains. Despite the puncture wound in his neck and the impending transformation-or-death that he is about to experience, Stiles still manages to keep his character sense of humour.

"Got some wild bondage stuff going on in your spare time, eh, Derbear?" He says with the awkwardest of smiles on his face.

Derek, not surprisingly, simply looks at him and shakes his head, not in an effort to answer 'no', but simply as an expression of complete and utter non-understanding of how a person can be so inappropriate and obscure and odd and clumsy and still have survived this long in a world like this one. "Up against the pillar, Stiles," he commands.

Stiles looks back at Scott who is equally as confused. Derek can tell becomes he lets out a loud sigh and explains it's to restrain him.

"Let me explain it simply for you two," he says. "Full moon," he says as he points to it, then he points to Stiles and says "new werewolf." His eyes are wide open like he's waiting for something to click in Scott and Stiles and for them to suddenly understand. When they don't, he curses under his breath and rolls his eyes. "Full moon plus werewolf equals bad combination. Need to restrain new werewolf for safety of everybody."

"Oh.. OH... OH!" I get it Stiles announces before backing up against the pillar, standing over a pile of chains. Derek just shakes his head once more and clips shackles over his hands. They're slightly lax and he can move around a little bit.

The transformation comes on quicker around the full moon because Stiles is already starting to sweat and pant. Scott remembers the last time he went through this, with Liam. It didn't go very well but he also didn't have Derek with him, so that's something.

It's about 11PM and the full moon is nearing its peak when Scott gets a text from his mum who is demanding that he comes home due it being a school night. He texts back but she's obviously not having a bar of it because the next minute he's getting a call from her. When he picks up, Derek can hear shouting and shrieking with his wolf-abilities coming from the other end of the phone. He chuckles slightly and motions for Scott to leave. Scott and his mum are almost at the point of a shouting match when Scott announces he'll be home as soon as possible and hangs up.

He walks over to Stiles who is still panting, but has somehow managed to maintain his sarcasm, because when Scott stops in front of him he says, "good to see things are as good as ever between you two" with an awkward smile, followed by a wince of pain obviously from the transformation coming on. "Go, Scott, big ol' Der has got me covered," he coughs out.

"It's alright, Scott, you go. I've done this before. I know what I'm doing. You can see him tomorrow, he'll be fine."

Scott nods, still not entirely 100% convinced that it's okay to leave his best friend alone with Derek.

"Go," Derek reaffirms.

When Scott is gone, Derek moves closer to Stiles. That stupid look – that one that Stiles had when Derek shoved him up against the locker in the school – was now present once again on his face. "Looks like it's just me and you," he says with an awkward chuckle.

"Looks like it," Derek responds. With a huff, he begins to speak. "Stiles, when this comes on, you're not going to be able to control it. You're not going to remember why you're here, who I am; you're just going to want to escape and maim and kill, not necessarily in that order." Stiles's face has contorted into something serious now. Jokes aside, he knows what it's like. He's seen Liam and Boyd and Erica and even Scott too. The last thing he wants to do is hurt someone, but he knows he won't have any control over himself when he shifts, especially when i's hard for him to think clearly even now. He's beginning to be able to smell the sooty air of the loft. He can smell..._something_...from the direction that the bed is in. And he feels odd. He shifts between his usual positive-come-scared self and then momentarily he'll feel completely calm and in control, like Derek always seems to be.

"You need to find an anchor," Derek announces, disrupting Stiles's thoughts. "I don't care who it is, but it needs to be strong. It can be your dad, Scott, Malia, it doesn't matter."

"Sure, easy. Totally easy," Stiles says. "Although Malia and me aren't together anymore, so, yea... You know, you've really gotta start keeping up with our stuff, Derek," Stiles says through gritted teeth. He's trying hard to keep a hold of himself. His sarcasm keeps him in check. He knows if he's able to make some completely inappropriate but witty comment that he's still himself. So long as he's not growling and panting and doesn't have freaking claws that can rip through skin and muscle and bone like they were nothing. "But I've got my eyes on another which is good."

Derek lets out a slight chuckle. "Okay, then think of them if you think they're strong enough to keep you here, or your dad, or Scott, it doesn't matter, Stiles, just think of them now. Right now," Derek says and he bends down so him and Stiles are eye-to-eye. "Right now," he repeats.

"OK," Stiles begins to repeat rhythmically. He takes deep breaths as beads of sweat drip down the side of your face. He begins to speak, but before he can he begins to write in pain. The only word that escaped from his lips was 'you', before he began panting and straining against his rusty restraints.

"Think of your anchor!" Derek yells at Stiles, who isn't listening. The change is coming over him and he can feel it. It's like his skin's on fire, it's burning one moment, but then the next it feels like he's made of concrete and his arms and legs are too heavy for him to keep stable, so he quivers. Then when he falls to the ground, the pain that greets his knees when they hit the ground is amplified to something unbearable. The small amount of gravel that a normal person wouldn't notice stings his kneecaps as if they were nails being hammered in. And then he smells something. He looks at Derek, his eyes now glimmering a beautiful honey shade of yellow. He can smell Derek. It's a sweaty but sweet smell. Then his head whips around to the bed and he can _feel_ it. Arousal. But then his claws decide they're going to grow, and they do so very slowly. They have to break out and it feels like a knife is being driven through each one of his fingers. Then, as quickly as the claws came, fangs descend from Stiles's mouth. An equally as uncomfortable sense of pain penetrates his gums as he roars a roar of pain and weakness. "...Your anchor!" He hears Derek repeat. He must have been saying it over and over again and Stiles just hadn't heard him despite the pain. "Who's you anchor, Stiles? Think of them! Let them bring you back!"

Stiles repeats the word he managed out just before his change amid a fierce roar. "You."

Derek is momentarily caught off-guard, and Stiles is more than aware of it because he seizes the opportunity to swing a hand at Derek. The swing is made with so much force that the shackle that was attached to the pillar breaks in half. The sound of metal snapping rings through the loft and penetrate Stiles's ears causing him to recoil. He's now completely lost his last shred of humanity, but Derek doesn't relent, and keeps repeating "Think of your anchor!" He wants to put a hand to Stiles's shoulder to remind him that he's not alone, but every time he does the beta goes to bite or claw at him.

Finally, when he manages to tether his line of sight to Stiles's, the beta calms, but only momentarily. He can see the pain in the new beta's eyes and remembers Satomi, the bitten-wolf. They always have more trouble with the change, and they have to learn to control it. Stiles is committed and he's smart – if Derek could just get through to him then he's convinced that he could control the shift.

That momentary stillness when the two were looking into each other's eyes must have built something up in Stiles, because this time he swings his other restrain arm towards Derek and it too breaks free. He's still bound to the pillar by ankle restraints, but with both hands free, it doesn't take much effort for him to snap those off either.

Derek is backing up, trying to get out of clawing distance from the beta who looks scarily determined. His pants are deep and every time he takes a breath the long fangs can be seen between his lips. His claws are fully extended and they're in the familiar 'ready to fight' position that Derek has seen so many times before, but this time he doesn't want to fight, he wants to help, so when Stiles pounce, bounding at least a few meters off the ground so that he lands on Derek, knocking him to the ground, Derek doesn't shift. He doesn't turn his eyes on or extend his claws or fangs, he just makes an effort to hold Stiles's arms at bay.

"Stiles! Look at me Stiles!" But nothing seems to get through. The skinny boy is snarling and making every effort to free his hands so that he can tear into the body below him, and he's just about to when Derek let's his hands go so that he falls chest-to-chest onto Derek. Seizing the beta's momentary confusion, Derek pushes Stiles off him and then straddles the boy's chest so that he's holding him down on the ground. He has more leverage this way; holding down Stiles's arms is easier than Stiles trying to raise his arms.

When he looks into the boy's eyes, Derek doesn't see anything violent. There's no desire to kill there; there's no need to fight and hurt. That's not who Stiles is, and Derek can see past the golden canvas that covers Stiles's normal, brown, human eyes. It's the wolf side of him that wants to kill, but that's only a shadow of who Stiles now is. Just like Derek, he's a werewolf, but that's not all he is – he cares for people and he would lay down his life for them. He just needs someone to do the same. So when Derek notices that Stiles's fangs are beginning to retract ever so slightly, he pushes his lips down on Stiles's.

A fang nips his lip, but it's bearable. His eyes are clenched shut and he hopes that this what Stiles meant by "you" because in the case that it is, Derek feels exactly the same thing.

To his surprise, Stiles begins to calm beneath him. When Derek opens his eyes he isn't greeted with a panting, blood-thirsty monster; instead he's greeted with the soft, sweet eyes of a scared boy who has been through hell and didn't deserve a single shred of the pain he has had to experience.

"Stiles..." Derek starts so kindly and empathetically, but the now-human-boy doesn't give him a chance to respond before pushing his lips up against the usually brooding man's.

Once he pulls away, he repeats what he said earlier, this time with a cheeky smile. "You."


End file.
